LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




0J* 17 401 226 ft • 



Young 
King Cole 



By CLEMENTIA 

iivsiec viae 

Sold only at address given below 



Copyright November 1911 By 
SISTERS OF MERCY, ST. PATRICK'S ACADEMY 

2303 Park Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 



PRICE 40 CENTS 



<&*<?& 

V 



■@CI.D 28347 
NO. | 



CHARACTERS. 

Young King Cole. 

Fiddlers Three, boys who really play the violin. 

Cup-bearer. 

ScepterSer. [ Four Attendants 

Cloak-bearer. J 

Herald. 

Merry Men (greater the number the better). 

Jack the Giant-killer. 

Snow-man. 

Jack Horner (very little boy). 

Pussy-in-the-Well. 

Little Boy Blue (very little boy). 

Three ; Wise Men of Gotham. 

Tom, the Piper's Son. 

Jack Frost. 

Humpty-Dumpty (small, stout boy). 

Sand-Man. 

Simple Simon. 

Gnomes (any number). 

Man-in-the-Moon. 

Jack Spratt and Wife (a boy may take latter part). 

There Was a Man in our Town. 

(Any of these may be omitted or others introduced.) 



COSTUMES. 

King Cole — Robes, crown and scepter of a king. 

Fiddlers and Pages — Court dress suitable to their various offices. 

Herald — Dress of scarlet and black, trimmed with gold. Cap 
with plume. Carries trumpet from which is suspended a 
short two-pointed pennant, bearing coat of arms. 

Merry Men — Doublet of leaf-green with loose sleeves above 
elbow, close-fitting, bright red undersleeves to wrist; short 
green bloomers; long red stockings; red, pointed slippers; 
high pointed cap of red and green, trimmed with bells and 
fastened under chin; jester's stick and bells. 



Snow-man — Long, very full gown of soft white material gathered 
at neck, waist and ankles. No arm-holes. Arms to be kept 
inside. Space from neck to waist and from waist to ankles 
well stuffed with cotton to represent huge snow-balls used in 
making snow-man. Large Red Riding Hood cap of white, 
gathered closely about face, also well stuffed. On back of 
this are painted the features of a snow-man, such as children 
make with lumps of coal. Pieces of kindling wood or short, 
light branches of trees for arms, one of which hangs at side, 
the other stands out at right angles to body. Snow-man 
stands on low cart or platform on wheels, and is drawn on 
and off stage. An upright post or support should reach to 
waist, inside robe, by which the child may steady himself. 

Pussy-in-the-Well — Long, loose coat and cap (with ears) of gray 
fur. Mask of cat's face if possible. 

Three Wise Men of Gotham — Caps and gowns of college students. 

Jack Frost — Long white hair and beard, loose white robe, well 
sprinkled with diamond-dust. Carries large thermometer 
and long-handled paint brush. 

Man-in-the-Moon — Old man in quaint dress. Large crescent 
' fastened to shoulders. 

Gnomes — Very little boys with long gray beards. Suits and caps 

of dull gray or brown, made somewhat like those of Merry 

Men. 
Sand-man — Old man in loose gray robe. Carries huge well-filled 

bag. 
Other characters dressed as in illustrations in books of Nursery 

Rhymes. 

SCENE. 

Entire stage should represent large cave in a forest. King 
Cole seated on rustic throne at back of stage, his attendants at 
his right and left. Three Fiddlers at right and a little back of 
throne. Herald at left, a little front of throne. 

As curtain rises, enter Merry Men with very light running 
step, keeping time to music here given. (Music and some stanzas 
of song adapted.) With body inclined slightly forward, the 
step should be taken as follows: Left, right, left, hop (on left 
foot, giving right foot a short upward kick back. Then right, 
left, right, hop on right foot, etc.) 



Entering from center, back of throne, in two columns one 
of which passes to the right, the other to left, they dance around 
to front of stage, until leaders meet and complete the circle. 
Then right column passes within left to left side of stage, and 
vice versa until leaders reach places at right and left of throne, 
when all face center of stage, forming a large semi-circle, with 
king and his attendants at back center. If the number of Merry 
Men be too great, a double or triple semi-circle may be formed. 
When all are in position the first and second verses of song are 
sung to same air. 

1 

Young King Cole is a merry young soul, 

And a merry young soul is he. 
He dwells in a den with twenty Merry Men, 
(Any number may be substituted.) 

Who laugh till they cannot see. 



They laugh ha ! ha ! They laugh ho ! ho ! 

They laugh ha! ha! he! he! 
They laugh till they cry, one would think they would die, 

They laugh so much, you see. 



Now young King Cole is a wise young soul, 

And a wise young soul is he. 
You can tell by his eyes he is merry and wise, 

And merry and wise is he. 



And again and again, it appears quite plain, 

As we said before, in his eyes, 
That young King Cole is a merry young soul, 

Because he is merry, good and wise. 

Appropriate gestures should be used. The laughing in sec- 
ond verse should be done very heartily, some of the little boys 
tumbling about and rolling on the floor. Between verses the 
boys should dance back and forth across stage, turning somer- 
saults and cutting various capers for the amusement of king and 
attendants, who should show that they heartily enjoy them. A 



few fancy dances may be introduced, if so desired. At end of 
second verse the Herald, who has taken his place at left of stage, 
announces by a blast of trumpet the entrance of Jack the Giant- 
killer. Herald and Jack cross the stage, stop a little to left of 
throne, remove caps and bow profoundly. 

Herald — Jack the Giant-killer, may it please your Majesty. 

King — -Well, my brave Jack, what matter of import bringeth 
thee hither today? 

Jack — May it please your Majesty, I am wearied of my 
search for more giants to slay, so I come to thee, most noble 
King, for counsel. 

King — What ! Hast thou rid my kingdom of giants ? Great 
shall be thy reward, noble Jack. 

Jack — Nay, not alone thy realm, but in my search I have 
roamed o'er the whole extent of this vast globe, from East to 
West, from pole to pole, slaying the monsters who menace the 
peace and safety of nations. But now my task is o'er and, like 
Alexander, I sigh for more worlds to conquer, more giants to 
slay. 

King — Patience, noble Jack! Thou shalt not sigh, as Alex- 
ander did, in vain. A pity 'tis, our men of science lived not in 
his day or he in ours. A short while hence, at thy disposal shall 
be placed an aeroplane, that thereby thou mayst soar to spheres 
unknown. (Jack bows low.) 

King — Ah, ha! that pleaseth thy ambitious spirit! But tell 
me, Jack, couldst not thy life be better spent by devoting thy glo- 
rious strength and skill to the slaying of more cruel giants than 
those thou hast hitherto met? Of another nature, truly, but 
none the less dangerous to the peace and happiness of our land — 
the giants of misery and want, of cruelty and oppression. What 
sayest thou? (Jack hesitates.) Ah! the situation is an unex- 
pected one. Well, I give thee three days to consider our proposi- 
tion. At the end of that time thou mayst return. (Jack bows 
low and retires.) 
(Merry Men sing third verse of song, which, as well as other 

verses hereafter sung, should be followed by a general frolic 

among the Men. After which Herald blows trumpet and 

two Men draw Snow-man to place at left front of throne.) 

King — Pray, tell us, whom have we here ? 

Snow-man — May it please your Majesty, will you pardon me 
for not bowing, as I am quite stiff today. I'm a snow-man. 



King — So we see, my friend. (To one of the men.) Fetch 
this gentleman a fan. Methinks the thermometer stands too high 
for his personal comfort. 
(Two men bring palm-leaf fans and fan Snow-man vigorously.) 

Snow-man — Thank your gracious Majesty. The heat hath 
indeed a strange effect upon me. 

King — And now, let us proceed to business. What is thy 
grievance ? 

Snow-man— May it please your Majesty, I fell from the 
clouds last night and lay, pure and white, upon the ground until 
spied by the children early this morning. Then, out of their 
homes they ran, and great was their glee. Nor did they end their 
frolic until they had formed me into what I now am. 

King — Well done for the little folks. And dost thou com- 
plain of their work? 

Snow-man — Nay, sire. Pray, hear me to the end. 

King — Proceed. 

Snow-man — When their work was complete they withdrew 
to a short distance, and I heard them plotting to return, after 
they had dined, and pelt me with snow balls until I should be no 
more. (Begins to weep.) 

King — Fie upon thee, sir! Hast thou so little love for the 
children that thou begrudgest them a half-hour's sport? 

Snow-man — Nay, your Majesty. But I am now a thing of 
beauty and I dread to return to my lowly condition. 

King — (sternly) Thou owest thy present state to the chil- 
dren, who have every right to dispose of thee as they desire. And 
e'en should they permit thee to retain thy present form, King 
Sol will soon make short work of thee. Get thee hence, and from 
experience learn this lesson : 

(Men sing to same air.) 

That each content in his place should dwell, 

And envy not his brother ; 
For any part that is acted well 

Is just as good as another. 

(The two Merry Men draw Snow-man down center to front of 
stage, while the rest of the band fill their arms with cotton 
snowballs, which have been brought on stage in large basket. 
The two Men turn the cart about, thus exposing the Snow- 
man's artificial face to audience. They then draw him to- 
wards back of stage and exit behind throne, the Merry Men 

5 



meanwhile showering him with balls to great amusement 

of king, etc. Herald blows trumpet. Enter Boy Blue, 

weeping.) 

King — Come hither, poor little child! What aileth thee? 

Boy Blue — May it please your Majesty, I'm in great dis- 
tress. My sheep have strayed into Mr. Green's meadow and my 
cows are feasting on Farmer Brown's corn, and both these 
worthy gentlemen say they are going to sue me for damages, and 
I don't want to be sued for damages. Boo-hoo ! boo-hoo ! 

King — But why, little boy, didst thou not take better care 
of thy sheep and cows? 

Boy Blue — (hanging his head) May it please your Majesty, 
I fell asleep by the hay stack and when I awoke I blew, and blew, 
and blew my horn, but not a sheep nor cow returned to me. 

King — Ah, then, 'tis thine own fault that thou art in trouble. 

Boy Blue — Yea, noble King. But please don't let them sue 
me for damages. (Cries again.) 

King — (smiling) Dost know, Boy Blue, what it meaneth 
to be sued for damages? 

Boy Blue — Nay, sire, but it must be something very dread- 
ful, judging from the faces of those worthy gentlemen. 

King — (solemnly) Now, Boy Blue, hearken well to what 
I shall say to thee. Six of my good men here shall go with thee 
to drive home thy sheep and cows, and I will undertake the no 
pleasant task of pacifying the men whose property thou hast 
damaged. 

Boy Blue — Oh, thank thee — 

King — But hold! On one condition only do I grant thee 
this favor. 

Boy Blue — Name it, gracious King. Anything but to be 
sued for damages. 

King — Tis this: That thou dost promise, in the presence 
of our whole court here assembled, never again to be found 
sleeping at thy post of duty. Dost think thou canst keep such 
a promise? 

Boy Blue — Yea, most noble king. 

King- — Good! But mind thee, Boy Blue, shouldst thou be 
found faithless to thy word, thou shalt once more be brought 
hither and be dealt with as lazy boys deserve. 



(Boy Blue bows low and retires, accompanied by six Men, all 
blowing small horns. Merry Men sing fourth verse of song, 
after which Herald again blows trumpet and announces 
Simple Simon, who advances, carrying large tin pail and 
fishing rod.) 

King — Thou'rt welcome, friend. What can we do for thee? 

Simple Simon — Most gracious King, I am called Simple 
Simon. On my way to the Fair I grew faint with hunger and 
longed most ardently for a pie. Soon after I met a pieman and 
begged him to let me sample his ware. He demanded a penny, 
and when I told him I had none he refused to give me even a 
taste of his pies. And I want to go a-fishing and I can't be- 
cause I'm too hungry. 

King — Poor fellow ! But hast thou lived thus long and not 
learned that but little in this world is obtained for the asking? 
Know thou that what is easily gained is but lightly esteemed. 
We do indeed pity thee, the more so as we ourselves are particu- 
larly fond of pie. Therefore, from this time forth, when thou 
art especially desirous of that dainty dish, or, in fact, in want 
of anything whatsoever, return hither and all thy needs shall be 
supplied. (Simple Simon bows.) 

Simple Simon — I thank thy gracious Majesty. 

(Enter two Men carrying a huge pie, which is presented to Simple 

Simon.) 

Simple Simon — Oh, most generous King, I am indeed grate- 
ful. Now I can go fishing. (Peers into pail.) 

King — Tut, tut, Simon. We are glad the little gift pleaseth 
thee. Go now, poor fellow, and share thy feast with one less 
fortunate than thyself. 

(Simple Simon, chuckling over the pie, bows himself out. Her- 
ald blows a great blast of his trumpet as the Man in the 
Moon enters. He strides across stage with much fuss and 
bluster. Merry Men range themselves about King in atti- 
tude of defense.) 
Man-in-the-Moon — What plot is this that hath but just now 

reached mine ears? How dost thou dare to give a subject of 

thine leave to trespass on the domain of another? 

King — Gently, gently, oh, Man-in-the-Moon. Thou must 

state thy case more clearly if thou dost expect a hearing in our 

court. 



Man-in-the-Moon — Must, indeed! No child of earth hath 
ever yet said "must" to the Man-in-the-Moon. But doubtless I 
shall have to make allowance for thine inferiority and lack of 
that intelligence which we superior beings who inhabit the worlds 
above do possess. 

King — (smiling) Proceed with thy business. Others are 
waiting their turns for an interview. 

Man-in-the-Moon — (wrathfully) What meaneth this plan of 
Jack the Giant-killer to invade my kingdom in search of giants? 

(King and Men laugh heartily.) 

King — So that is thy grievance, worthy Man? Methinks 
thou'rt borrowing trouble. Pray, give us credit for better sense 
than to send our invaluable Jack on a fruitless search to thy bar- 
ren, uninhabited realm, where there is not so much as a drop 
of water to quench the thirst of a pigmy. Get thee hence and 
"never trouble trouble till trouble troubles thee." 
(Merry Men swarm around Man, blowing horns and shaking 
their bells. They chase him around stage, singing to same 
air:) 

The Man in the Moon 
Came down too soon. 

Great trouble he did borrow. 
He had best not roam 
From his own bleak home, 

As he's learned to his great sorrow. 

(Man makes his escape. Herald again sounds trumpet. Enter 
Tom, the Piper's Son, accompanied by two Merry Men.) 
Merry Men — May it please your Majesty, we caught this 
rogue. 

King — Pray, what may be his name, my faithful men ? 
First Man — He is called Tom, and is the son of the village 
Piper. 

King — Ah, yes ; we know his father well, and many a pleas- 
ant hour have we whiled away in days gone by, listening to the 
music of his pipe, which he never tired playing so long as there 
were music-loving ears and nimble feet about him. And what 
grave charge have you against the son of our old friend? 

Second Man — May it please your Majesty, the fellow hath 
stolen a pig, which succeeded at length in making its escape, 
after which it killed a goose. The owners of both pig and goose 
demanded his arrest, so we promptly instituted search for the 



culprit and at length came upon him, just as he had succeeded in 
recapturing the pig. 

King — A sorry tale, this. Art thou so unfaithful to the 
teachings of thy worthy father that thou dost not hesitate to 
bring disgrace upon his aged head? What was thy intent in the 
theft thou hast committed? Speak! 

Tom- — May it please your Majesty, my father, as thou well 
knowest, is fast growing old and his pipe ne'er leaves his hand. 
He playeth on it from early morn till late at night and scarce doth 
he lay it aside, to partake of his meals. I am sore wearied of his 
endless tunes and I bethought me of a plan to divert his thoughts 
from his shrill-toned pipe. I did but borrow Goody Gifford's pig 
last eve, intending to restore it e'er break of day, but as I car- 
ried it home the slippery beast did escape my clutches and, e'er 
I could again secure it, had found its way into a barnyard, where 
it brought an imprudent goose to an untimely end. 

King — So, thou ungrateful, disrespectful knave, thou hast 
such small regard for thy poor father's declining years that thou 
refusest him his sole and only pastime! And then thou sayest 
thou didst but "borrow" the pig. Borrow, indeed. Thou dost 
attribute to the word "borrow" a significance which it possesseth 
not. To take, without the permission of the owner, is not bor- 
rowing, as thou shalt find to thy cost. We have heard of thy 
pranks e'er now, but, for the sake of thy worthy father, we have 
delayed to mete out to thee the punishment they deserve. Ho ! 
my brave men ! Lead this fellow hence. Conduct him to the 
keeper, with orders that he shall tend our pigs until such time as 
he shall have earned sufficient to indemnify those whom he hath 
wronged. Whilst discharging that duty, he will have ample time 
to reflect on his past misdeeds and to learn proper respect and 
deference towards the aged. And thou, Lightfoot, make haste to 
bring hither his worthy father, that we may appoint him Piper 
to our court. 
(Four Men lead Tom ofl at right of stage, while a fifth bows 

low before throne and exits at left. Merry Men again sing 

fourth verse. Then Herald sounds trumpet.) 
(Enter Pussy-in-the-Well, glancing timidly about him.) 

King — Come hither, Puss. Naught shall harm thee here. 
What hath befallen thee? Thou lookest bedraggled and forlorn. 
Thy soft coat is soiled with mud. Methinks thou hast met with 
no gentle treatment. 

Puss — (mournfully)' Thou'rt correct in thy judgment, most 



noble king. A short time since I was a clean, sleek cat, as thou 
hast always known me to be. Having gone into the barn in 
search of mice, I overheard a plot, which was being discussed 
by some evil-minded lads, standing without. My curiosity was 
aroused and I crept nearer the door, hoping thus to hear more. 
But woe is me! The leader of the group spied me, and ere I 
could make my escape I was a prisoner. They hurried me away 
and, amid much shouting and rude laughter, threw me into that 
cold, bottomless well at the end of the garden. I begged most 
piteously to be released, but they shouted the more, and finally 
retired from the spot, leaving me to my cruel fate. Vainly did 
I strive to climb the slippery wall, till at length, exhausted and 
disheartened, and hardly able to utter the faintest "meow," I was 
about to sink to an early grave, when a shadow darkened the 
mouth of the well and I heard little Tommy Stout's cheery voice 
bidding me pluck up courage once more. He lowered the bucket 
and right gladly did I clamber into it, scarce able to restrain my 
joy at my unexpected deliverance. Having thanked my benefac- 
tor, I straightway hastened hither to beg thy gracious Majesty 
to reward him and to punish my persecutors. 

King — I am sorry, Puss, for the sufferings thou hast under- 
gone, but art sure thou thyself art not somewhat to blame? 
Knowest thou not the ancient adage: "Curiosity killed the cat"? 
And, too, thou didst not shun . bad company, as thou hast been 
taught to do. Most surely will I reward little Tommy Stout for 
the service rendered to our household pet. As for thy persecu- 
tors, they shall indeed be taught that cruelty to animals is a crime 
not tolerated in the realm of young King Cole. And for thee — 
betake thyself to the kitchen and there warm and dry thyself 
and take to heart this lesson, that idle curiosity and bad company 
have proved the ruin of many. (Exit Puss.) 
(Trumpet sounds.) 
Herald — A Man from our town, so please your Majesty. 
(As Man enters Merry Men sing to same air:) 

There was a man in our town 
And he was wondrous wise. 

He jumped into a bramble bush 
And scratched out both his eyes. 

Aud when he saw his eyes were out, 
With all his might and main, 

He' jumped into another bush, 
And scratched them in again. 

10 



There was a man in our town 

And he was wondrous wise; 
He lifted up the "skeeter" bar, 

And let in all the flies. 
And when he tried to go to sleep, 

He found it was in vain, 
So he lifted up the "skeeter bar" 

And let them out again. 

Man — If it please your Majesty, I should like to express 
my thanks to your Merry Men for having so ably told my story. 
Naught remains for me but to beg thy Majesty to recommend to 
all who find themselves in like predicaments, that they adopt 
similar means of bettering their condition. I thank thee, noble 
sire, for thy patience in thus hearing me. 

King — Verily, O, Man, if all our clients were as clear and 
concise in stating their cases as thou hast been, our court would 
long since have been adjourned. 

(Exit Man.) 

Herald, by blast of trumpet, announces Jack Horner, who enters, 
bearing a much mutilated pie.) 

King — How now, Jacky! Why, what hath happened thy 
pie? 

Jack — (dolefully) May it please your Majesty, 'tis my 
Christmas pie, and I've put in my thumb so many times to pull 
out the plums, that there is not a single plum left. And if it 
please your Majesty, will you kindly ask your cook to put more 
plums in my pie so I can put it away and save it for next 
Christmas? 

King — Ho ! Jack, so that is all that troubles thee. Methinks, 
were I a little boy, I should finish the pie and let next Christmas 
take care of itself. Remember, my lad, "Sufficient for the day 
is the evil thereof." Go now and be content. 

(Exit Jack.) 

(Herald announces Humpty Dumpty in usual manner. Enter 
Humpty with head bound up and one arm in sling. He 
hobbles along by means of a crutch.) 

King — Well, my brave lad, what dire catastrophe hath be- 
fallen thee? 

11 



Humpty Dumpty — May it please your Majesty, I fell from 
the garden wall, and thy physician hath but now bound up my 
wounds. And, may it please your Majesty, I am come to ask 
the aid of thy Merry Men, in order that I may regain my former 
position on the wall. 

King — Thy bitter experience hath not then taught thee a 
lesson. If not, we cannot help thee, for from time immemorial 
there hath been, in our kingly family, a tradition to the effect that 
if Humpty Dumpty ever had the misfortune to fall from his 
allotted place on the garden wall, all the king's horses and all the 
king's men could not put Humpty up there again. So thou seest 
thou must be content with a less lofty position in life. Thou art 
dismissed. 

(Humpty retires. Merry Men sing to same air.) 

Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall 

Until he chanced to fall ; 

All the king's horses and all the king's men 

Could not put him back again. 

(Herald, as before, announces Jack Sprat and his wife. The 
former should be very thin, the latter very stout.) 

Jack — (hurriedly) May it please — 

King — Hold thy peace, Jack, ladies first. And now, Dame 
Sprat, how cometh it we have the honor of thy presence at our 
court today? 

Dame Sprat — May it please your Majesty, I am this man's 
wife. For thirty long years we have dwelt together, and I will 
say for him, he hath been a good husband. For so long a time, 
as I said before, have we dwelt together in peace, with ne'er but 
one point of disagreement betwixt us. My worthy man here 
can eat no fat, I can eat no lean. When he goeth to market, he 
doth instruct the butcher to cut off all the fat from the meat, 
doubtless so that it will be of less weight. Owing to this fact, I 
am become but a shadow of my former self and if justice be 
not done me soon, Dame Sprat will be but a walking skeleton. 

King — If thou be now but a shadow, good woman, what 
must the reality have been ! Proceed, Jack, with thy complaint. 

Jack — May it please your Majesty, my good wife hath ad- 
mirably well described to you the existing conditions in our 
happy home. Like unto her, I have only one fault to find. 'Tis 
this: When she goeth to market she doth buy nothing but fat, of 

12 



which I durst -not partake, lest, becoming too stout, I should grow 
lazy and perforce spend the remainder of my life dozing in the 
chimney corner. 

King — (indignantly) Fie upon you for a pair of selfish 
children ! But one point of disagreement betwixt ye, indeed ! 
Little do I like to doubt the word of any man, but know ye this, 
that one dispute begets another. Betake yourselves to that peace- 
ful home, of which ye boast, and if ye cannot prove yourselves 
more unselfish toward each other, then go to market together 
and buy each for himself. But know ye, that if ever again ye 
have the affrontery to bring such silly twaddle before the highest 
tribunal of the land, we will sentence the pair of ye to perpetual 
abstinence from flesh meat, be it fat or lean. Begone! 

(Merry Men drive the couple from stage, singing.) 

"Jackey Sprat could eat no fat, 
His wif e could eat no lean ; 
And so betwixt the two of them 
They ate the platter clean." 

(Music continues and Merry Men imitate the sighing and 
whistling of the winter wind, at the same time rubbing the 
tips of their noses and fingers as if cold. King and attend- 
ants also show signs of cold.) 

(Herald blows a mighty blast of trumpet, and, with great puffing 
and blowing, Jack Frost strides across stage.) 

Jack Frost — I come, O, King, in obedience to thy summons. 

King — (Cloak-bearer places cloak on King's shoulders, who 
wraps it closely about him) We compliment thee on thy prompt- 
ness, friend Frost. But we have heard that of thee which 
pleaseth not our royal ears. 'Tis said that, as the years go by, 
thou dost become more and more severe toward the children of 
earth, who, of course, are well-nigh powerless in thine icy grasp. 
We, ourselves, have oft experienced thy cruelty. Verily, had we 
bethought ourselves in time, we should have conducted even this 
interview by means of the telephone. (Shivers and rubs his 
hands.) 

Jack Frost — I but do that, O, King, which 'tis my nature to 
perform. 

King — Yea, but 'tis also thy duty, friend Frost, to tame that 
ferocious nature of- thine. Why, 'tis unmanly, sir, to take advan- 

13 



tage of the weakness of others in order to cause them needless 
suffering. Do, rather, the good of which thou art so capable. 
Yea, freeze well the lakes, rivers and ponds, not alone for the 
healthful sport of the boys and girls, but also for the refresh- 
ment of poor mortals who bake and frizzle during the long, hot 
summer. Also remember the sick and feverish who have reason 
to thank thee for the alleviation of their pain. Rather spend 
thine energy preparing the hills and roads for the children's 
pastimes than in nipping their poor little noses and ears and 
ringers and toes. Ripen thou the nuts and clothe the woods with 
royal robes of purple, scarlet and gold. Paint thy beautiful 
pictures upon the window panes, and, in fine, do good to all. 
Thou hast lived a long, long life, and thou shalt endure unto the 
end of time. Take heed, then, lest as old age creeps upon thee, 
thou becomest the bitter enemy of us mortals, who may, per- 
chance, adopt measures to confine thee to thine Arctic kingdom. 
Thou art dismissed, and the sooner thou takest thy departure 
the better for all in thine immediate neighborhood. 

(Jack Frost departs as he entered, Merry Men sighing, etc., as 

before.) 

(Herald announces, in usual manner, the Three Wise Men of 
Gotham, who enter, shivering and wrapping their cloaks 
about them.) 

King — Ha! ye met our chilly friend, Jack Frost, without. 

Three Men — Yea, so please your Majesty. 

First Man — 'Twas not the warmest of meetings, noble King. 

King — So we see, judging from your appearance. Ye have a 
case to submit to our decision? 

Second Man — Yea, sire, we have a case. 

King — Proceed, then. Our time is limited. 

Third — May it please your Majesty, we desire that the full 
rigor of the law be exercised upon one Peter Stone, from whom 
we did but lately purchase a large bowl, which did fall to pieces 
the first time it was put to use. 

King — Tis passing strange. We, too, purchase all our 
crockery from that worthy man, and so well doth it wear that 
for a great length of time we have had to order naught of the 
kind. To what use did ye put the bowl, worthy men? 

14 



First Man — May it please your Majesty, we are all old men. 
Our lives have been spent in the pursuit of learning of various 
kinds. A week since, we were all possessed with a desire to 
travel, in order to see for ourselves some of the wondrous things 
of which men speak. Thinking our friend, Peter Stone, an 
honest fellow, we acquainted him of our plans and desired that 
he would furnish us with a large bowl that would float upon the 
sea. He laughed at us, and made some remark to the effect that 
the Wise Men of Gotham had lost their wits. But our resolve 
was not to be shaken by the ridicule of so ignorant a person as 
Peter Stone, and, having purchased the bowl for a goodly sum, 
we at length set sail for distant lands. But, woe is me. (Begins 
to weep.) 

King — (to Second Man) Proceed with this strange tale, 
which, in truth, savors of the ridiculous. 

Second Man — May it please your Majesty, we were scarce 
half a mile from shore, being the object of wonder to the crowds 
gathered thereupon, when a floating log, unperceived by us, 
crashed against our frail craft and — Ah ! how can I proceed ? 

(Is overcome by emotion.) 

King — (to Third Man) Continue! 

Third Man — And, so please your Majesty, the great bowl 
was shattered and we were precipitated into the briny depths. 
"Swimology" is a science we have all neglected to learn, and but 
for the heroic charity of the spectators on the shore the Wise 
Men of Gotham would now be food for the fishes. 

King — The Wise (?) Men of Gotham, forsooth!! Me- 
thinks a prattling babe of two years could teach ye a little common 
sense. Return to your musty volumes, and when the fever for 
travel is again upon ye, come hither and we shall see that your 
journey be of longer duration. 

(Exit Wise Men. Merry Men sing.) 

The Three Wise Men of Gotham town 

In a great bowl went to sea; 
If the bowl had stronger proved itself, 

Our song would longer be. 

15 



(Herald announces the Gnomes, a number of whom enter.) 

King — Welcome to our court, little folk. Surely we shall 
hear naught but what is cheery from you. 

Leader — May it please your Majesty, 'tis an unpleasant duty 
which we have come hither to perform. It grieves us mightily 
to be obliged to enter complaint of thine own subjects, the more 
so as thou has ever been a true and tried friend to the little people 
who dwell in the depths of the earth. 

King — What ! my little friends, have mine own people, in 
utter disregard of our royal mandate, in aught molested you? 
Nay, we dislike much to hear reports of this nature. Neverthe- 
less, justice must have sway in our land. Be so kind, therefore, 
as to make us aware of the nature of the wrong done ye. 

Leader — So please your Majesty, for untold ages we dwelt 
deep down in the chilly earth, or in the most secret recesses of 
the dense forests. Sometimes, too, in the clefts and caverns of 
the mighty mountains. We molested no one, it being our law to 
flee at the approach of mortals. But in these latter days of 
invention and scientific research, we have been driven hither and 
thither, till so small a portion of our former domain is left us 
that we cannot carry on our usual work. We know thou art a 
good and mighty King, and that we shall not plead our cause in 
vain. 

King — We are, indeed, sorry for your plight, little people, 
but how to apply a remedy to the evil is a perplexing question. 
Ye well know that the whole earth, with all that it containeth, 
was created for "God's glory and man's use and benefit," and so 
long as man doth not abuse this wondrous gift of God, no poten- 
tate of earth hath power to deprive him of his right. Still, your 
case is not so hopeless as it at first doth appear. We shall do 
all that is in our royal power. There are on this wondrous globe 
many unknown islands, where ye can dwell secure for ages yet 
to come. Go, seek out for yourselves, in some unknown sea, a 
fair land, where foot of man hath ne'er yet trod. Keep your 
secret safe from mortal ears, my little friends, and our best 
wishes attend ye. Farewell. 

(Herald joins group about throne. Merpy Men sing fourth verse 
again, followed by 

16 



Then give three cheers for our noble King, 

For, in all this world so fair, 
None so great as he, nor from care so free, 

None in aught with him compare. 

And three cheers more for the pages four, 

For our Herald and fiddlers three, 
And cheer on cheer for our audience here, 

A right goodly company. 

And now, dear friends, ere our frolic ends, 

This one lesson take to heart: 
If you'd always be from care quite free, 

From our King learn well this art. 

That wealth and power and tree and flower 

Cannot help you if they would; 
To be merry and wise, your- souls must rise, 

To the noble and the good. 

(While last verse is being sung, the Sand Man enters unobserved, 
and when the song is finished he startles the entire court 
by a loud burst of laughter. Merry Men range themselves 
in attitude of defense around King.) 

Sand Man — Ha ! ha ! ! ho ! ho ! ! Yea, look well at me. / 
am the Sand Man, your mortal enemy. For many a weary 
hour have I stood without, but "all things come to them that 
wait." Ye have prated, long and loud, of the wisdom of your 
youthful King, but know ye, that wise men leave not the gate 
unguarded. Ye have boasted much of his power and greatness. 
/ will show ye that strong and weak, great and small, rich and 
poor, noble and plebeian, all, all shall bow before my gentle, yet 
mighty, sway. (Advances towards throne. Merry Men stand 
closer together.) 

Sand Man — Disperse and get ye to bed, ye silly ones. 

Merry Men — Never will we forsake our King. Rather will 
we die for him. 

Sand Man — Fine speeches these ! ( Strides nearer to throne. 
Herald blows a mighty blast on trumpet. The front row of 
Merry Men rush forward, surround Sand Man, beat him with 

17 



their wands, and endeavor to drive or push him from stage. At 
same time, from all sides, enter all the characters who have ap- 
peared before King for judgment. They come to the assistance 
of Men.) 

Sand Man — Ha ! ha ! ! ho ! ho ! ! ye think, then, to frighten 
me, ye midgets! I will bind ye fast with slumber chains and 
carry ye captives to the Land of Nod — yea, e'en as far as Sleepy- 
town, and there I shall keep ye as long as is my own sweet will. 
(Whilst saying this he puts his hand into bag and then waves it 
over his head as if scattering sand about him. He repeats this 
action again and again. Those near him yawn and rub their 
eyes, striving in vain to keep awake. One by one they succumb, 
falling here and there, on either side of stage. They are replaced 
by other Men from about the throne, until there are few left to 
defend King, the Sand Man meanwhile having succeeded in 
obtaining a place so near throne that he soon overpowers in same 
manner, both King and attendants. He then surveys the scene 
before him.) 

(A lullaby should be softly played during this part of play, be- 
ginning when Sand Man finishes speaking the above.) 

Sand Man — Ha ; ha ! What say ye now, brave laddies ? Ye 
are close prisoners at last, tho' I'll give ye credit for the goodly 
fight ye made. Rest ye well, and sweet may your dreams be. 
(Nods at the sleepers and tiptoes off stage, chuckling softly and 
waving his hand as if scattering sand over the audience.) 

Curtain. 



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